


A Season 2 Beth and Daryl Moment

by flippantninny



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 21:33:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2165928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flippantninny/pseuds/flippantninny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the prompt: I would love any interaction between Beth & Daryl during season 2. I don't know something really in character especially their personalities back then.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Season 2 Beth and Daryl Moment

"How many times do I have to tell everyone, if I wanted to talk I would be at the camp," Daryl said as he heard footsteps behind him. Hadn’t Dale got the message? Or maybe it was Rick who wanted to talk. Back at the first camp people had been happy to ignore him, let him go on week long hunting trips, and eat the food he bought back. Now, ever since Rick had arrived and Merle had gone, everyone always wanted to talk to him all the time.

"Sorry," a female voice said. He hadn’t been expecting that. He turned around to see the younger Greene girl, she was holding a bucket of water with a cloth in it.

"Thought you were on bed rest," he asked, "the hell do you want anyway?"

"Your hand," she said, "I thought you might want me to clean it up."

He hadn’t really noticed the dried blood on his hand. He was pretty sure it was all Randall’s, but now she had pointed it out his hand was starting to hurt. The price of beating the shit out of people.

"Here," she said, holding her hand out, "looks like it hurts."

He shrugged, “I’ve had worse. Your daddy know you’re out here?”

He held his hand out and let her inspect it. Her grip was soft, her skin smooth. The opposite of his calloused hands.

She shrugged, “doesn’t matter, I’m not gonna try and off myself again so he hasn’t got anything to worry about.”

He winced as she started to wipe the blood away, revealing broken skin under the blood.

"Sorry," she said again.

Daryl didn’t like how she was constantly apologizing. Daryl didn’t like her, if he was honest. She tried the easy way out, decided it was too hard, and now was playing good farmers daughter while the world went to shit. She was the definition of a coward.

"What’re you helping me for anyway, didn’t I just beat the shit out of one of your classmates?"

"He said he went to school with Maggie, not me." Beth replied.

"Still his blood you’re washing away." Daryl replied, his tone curt.

Beth looked uncomfortable, but she didn’t stop running the dried blood away.

"Daddy says he’s not a good person, says we shouldn’t go near that barn and we should stay in the house while his friends might still be around."

"You just ignore your father’s wishes all the time, or you don’t care that those guys would have a lot of fun with a little girl like you?" Daryl asked. Both his tone and his question unnecessarily harsh.

Beth stopped cleaning his hand and met his gaze, “I’m with you. You’d keep me safe,” she said. Was her tone always this hopeful?

"You naïve or what? You miss the part where I beat the crap out of a boy, what makes you think I would help you?" he asked. His hand was clean and she had started wrapping a bandage over it.

"Because," she said, "you’re a good man, Daryl Dixon. How does your hand feel?" She let go of his hand, letting it fall into his lap, and looked back up at him.

"I beat him til he begged me to stop, I ain’t a good man," he said.

"We do what we have to to survive, Daryl, you did what you had to do, that doesn’t make you a bad man, how’s your hand?" she asked again.

"You don’t know me, you don’t know what I’m capable of," he said.

"I know a good man when I see one, now tell me your hand’s okay so I can get back to the house before my daddy notices I was gone," she said, he was starting to feel anxious of her gaze, those big blue eyes just didn’t quit.

“‘s fine,” he said.

"Good," she said, picking up the bucket and walking back to the house.


End file.
